


The Quidditch Bet

by BessTheKraken



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BessTheKraken/pseuds/BessTheKraken
Summary: I recently found this again-it's probably a decade old. I don't know where I was headed with it, but it seemed a shame to toss what was already written.A series of letters from Hermione to Viktor explaining exactly why she and Ron are no longer together and what, exactly, Draco Malfoy has to do with that.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Dear Viktor,

It was so nice to get your letter! Being an 'eighth year' at Hogwarts is a messy combination of awkward, challenging, and exhilarating- we're not supposed to be students but we are and we're supposed to be adults, but we're not. It's like trying to fit into an old dress you've almost outgrown. The other students who stayed for the battle seem to understand, but the youngest? Well, they seem to be almost scared of us.  
I bullied the boys into coming back with me to complete our last year- they were going to go straight into the ministry, can you believe it? Where on earth did they think they'd be in ten years without their NEWTs? On the bright side, with the complete 'Golden Trio' (thanks ever so for telling me that awful term has made it to the continent by the way. So glad to know I'm being ridiculed in other languages as well.) back, almost everyone from our year has returned as well. It's made the dorms a bit crowded, since we're sharing with the seventh years, but I don't mind because now I have Ginny to offset Lavender and Parvati. Although to be fair, they've both sobered considerably since Lavender, well, you know. I bet you wouldn't have to hide in a bathroom once if you came to visit.  
I'm so glad your Quidditch season is going well! You were so brilliant at the World Cup. (That feels like a million years ago, doesn't it?) You're right- I will have to come see you play some time. I don't suppose there's a chance you'll be playing in the UK any time soon, is there?  
Speaking of Quidditch, Harry and Ron convinced the new headmaster to let eighth years try out for house teams. Not that it was hard; while most of the teachers have known us too long to engage in anything as silly as hero-worship, the new head is a transplant from Ireland and is entirely blinded by all the stories about 'The Boy Who Lived' and his friends. I avoid him as much as possible.  
Anyway, Harry's back to seeking and my boyfriend (that still sounds odd, doesn't it? But we've been official for months) is Keeping for Gryffindor. I suppose that means I'll have to go to all the games again. Drat. I was so looking forward to my weekends being my own this year; no one dragging me into insane 'adventures,' no Quidditch, no dark wizards trying to kill my best friend...  
Oh gosh, I just reread that last sentence and it sounds so whiny, doesn't it? Viktor, I'm sorry. You take valuable time out of your day to write me and all you get back is a list of complaints. Here, to make up for it I'll close with a list of things I'm grateful for:

That Hogwarts' repairs were completed in time for the new school year.  
That Crookshanks forgives me for sending him away with my parents. (I've enclosed a picture of him on my lap, 'helping' me write to you.)  
That I have a dear friend like you to keep in touch with.

Love,  
Hermione


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Viktor,

You are too sweet- I was whinging and you know it. But the clipping of you and your team did the trick; you looked so happy, how could I possibly be gloomy? At this rate, not only will I be going to all Ron's Quidditch games, I'll be going to next year's World Cup too! Congratulations.  
My classes are going really well- why didn't anyone tell me they save the most interesting lessons for your last year? Since you graduated ages ago I'm holding you personally responsible for my ignorance.  
I'm particularly enjoying History of Magic, where we're covering Wizarding Law. You know, I've almost decided to become a lawyer after Hogwarts. Oh, I felt a little thrill as I wrote that- you're the first person I've told. I'm a little scared to tell Ron. I'm pretty sure he thinks witches can only be teachers or homemakers, since that makes up about 95% of his experience. But I like law, really like it, and there's to much injustice in the world. I can't just sit by and not do something about it. Is that silly?  
Oh- Ron's calling. Today's the day of the Gryffindor- Slytherin match so I have to go bundle up, 'show the colors,' and support my man. I'll wait until sending this after the game so I can tell you the score. Ron's looking oddly flushed- I hope he doesn't get stage fright again.  
…  
I am incandescent with rage. My hand is shaking so badly that I'm not sure you're going to be able to read this, but I have to tell you. It's this or hex Ronald into absolute oblivion.  
Do you remember how I told you he wasn't looking well before the match? Well, I sodding well know why now. The daft, demented, IMBECILE made a bet with Draco BLOODY Malfoy. Apparently Malfoy approached him days ago and goaded him into a wager- Malfoy's fancy broom for, no, I can't write it. It's too stupid for words.   
We spent six YEARS protecing Harry, another on the run, and fought in a literal war. I'd thought he'd grown up, that there was finally something between his ears besides a storage space where he keeps leftover biscuits, but no. If there were, do you think he would have bet Draco 'literal Death Eater' Malfoy an EVENING WITH ME?  
Nope, I'm still furious. I'm going to go hex his bollocks off. If I go to jail, post bail, won't you?

Hermione


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Viktor,

Thank you for your concern, but I didn't go to jail. I do have a detention, but since Professor McGonagall heard what I was shouting while I cursed Ronald's knees together (among other things) I don't think it's going to be too bad.  
Thank you, too, for the Howler you sent him. It arrived at breakfast yesterday. I don't know what all those words were you said, but it was satisfyingly loud and terrifying. Ronald's face turned so pale I thought he might faint. He didn't, sadly, but it did make me feel better.  
After I hexed his tongue out of his mouth the other day (among other things) Professor McGonagall marched me up to her office. Once Madame Pomfrey put him back together (I'm pretty proud to say it took her a full half hour) Ronald joined us. And once he began his story, so did Draco Sodding Malfoy.   
The full story, as I understand it, is that Malfoy was flashing his fancy broom around a few days before the game- because he clearly hasn't grown up whatsoever either, despite the whole LITERAL WAR thing- and began goading Ronald- you know how touchy he is. Remember his stupid outburst when we went to the Yule Ball? Anyway, Ronald took the bait, saying Gryffindor could fly circles around Slytherin. Malfoy, the sly bastard, said something like “Oh yeah? Care to wager on it?” and the limp flobberworm that is my extremely ex-boyfriend jumped at it. “Yeah! When Gryffindor wins, I get your broom.” Well, Malfoy wanted to know what Ronald would put up. Ron's ears went pink when he told us that part, just like I imagine they did at the time.  
Apparently Malfoy made a vulgar suggestion regarding myself which, thank goodness, Ronald had the good sense to refuse. But he counted with a date with me instead. Can you imagine what kind of underdeveloped frontal lobe a person has to have to think that kind of thing is okay? He literally put me up for a bet, like a galleon or a toy. Ronald, my at-that-time-boyfriend, who claimed he loved me, bet me. Like a pimp or something.   
What was he thinking? Nothing, of course. But couldn't he realize that Malfoy had an ulterior motive? It's not like he agreed to a date with me because he has any interest- you know the sort of disgusting words he uses for people of Muggle birth. No, this is far more petty. I guarantee that he deliberately goaded Ronald to split us up, to break up the 'Golden Trio' in childish revenge for the damage Voldemort's defeat has done to his family. Well, it worked. I am emphatically not speaking to Ronald.  
I haven't told you the worst bit yet. If it was just a stupid bet I could laugh it off and never speak to either of them again. But while we sat in McGonagall's office, he said something that took my breath away. I have to go on this 'date.'  
Because Ronald Bilius Weasley, thinking he was being so clever, made Malfoy swear an Unbreakable Vow. So if I don't go, he will literally die.  
And this is a man who wants to be an Auror? Merlin help us.  
I wish I could say that I've never seen Professor McGonagall look angrier, but I can't. I've seen her at war, after all. But she did lose the ability to speak, like I did. Then she told Malfoy to arrange the date for next week and sent the two of us out of the room. I could hear her reaming Ronald out all the way down the hall.  
In my more charitable moments I'm glad Professor McGonagall got involved. I can completely see that ferret refusing to honor the Vow just to let Ronald die. But now that she's involved, he can't.  
Why did I have to do something as stupid as kissing Ronald during the Battle? Why did I ever think coming back would be a good idea?   
Right now, the idea of running away to somewhere tropical where no one knows my name and where the war never happened sounds perfect. You could come with me, if you like- we could rent a little house, and you could give flying lessons while I mixed potions for the locals. An added bonus if we moved somewhere where no one spoke English and I'd never have to speak to another person from Britain again.  
I just had a funny thought- Malfoy's every move outside Hogwarts is shadowed by a whole host of scandal rags. What is this farce going to do to the rest of his reputation? I must be hysterical- I'm laughing so hard I'm crying.

Love,

Hermione


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Viktor,

Once again your letter came at just the right time. I've never seen that charm before- promise you'll teach it to me? A hug from you, even though you're hundreds of miles away, was exactly what I needed. I really needed that warm embrace.  
It's been rather lonely since I last wrote you. Because I'm not speaking to Ronald, I don't see much of Harry. I'm trying to not to blame him for it- they were friends first, they've always been closer, Harry is loyalty incarnate- but I do, a little. No matter how badly Ronald has messed up over the years, Harry has always been there for him and that leave me out in the cold. And now I don't even have Ginny to talk to because she's dating Harry and I can't put her in that awkward position. Although she is furious, of course. I'm not sure she's speaking to Ronald either.  
The whole school knows what happened. Not because I told them- who would I tell? And certainly not because Ronald's told anyway; he's barely showing his face outside the Common Room, except for classes. No, Malfoy has found a way to leverage the whole stupid bet to his advantage. He's framed the whole affair as a clever ploy on his part to get one over on Ronald- which, of course, it was. Everyone in school knows how that slimy ferret tricked Ronald into making the bet that broke us up.  
I heard someone ask him about our 'date' as I passed the Slytherin table this morning. He said it was a small price to pay to get one over on 'the Weasel.' I nearly hexed him right there, but that would have been too much like defending Ronald, something I have no interest in.  
The punishment for the two of them has been substantial, at least. They're both banned from Quidditch, as well as all Hogsmead trips (except the unfortunate 'date') and have detention every other night for from now until the end of the year- Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I'm also to receive an apology from both of them, although I'm not holding my breath for anything meaningful. They've also gotten permanent record notes with the Ministry, not that that will stop either of them from whatever fabulous careers they choose in the future- one has too much money and the other has to much social cachet.  
Enough. I'm done thinking about this until Friday. You included happy notes too.  
Fall in Bulgaria sounds lovely. Everything is getting rainy and miserable here (maybe that accounts for my mood?)- your descriptions of the grape vines heavy with fruit in the sun made me wish for the hundredth time that I was there.   
Your schedule sounds exhausting- I hope you're taking time to yourself. Don't think I don't remember how you worked yourself to the bone during the TriWizard Tournament. Take care of yourself- you're the only you I have.

Love,

Hermione


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Viktor,

My last letter won't have reached you yet, but I couldn't wait to send you this. Don't worry- for once I'm not in distress. Actually, I'm somewhere between bafflement and amusement.  
As you know, my 'date' with Malfoy quickly became something of a national crisis. Not only was McGonagall keeping a close eye on him, the Ministry was giving him the ol' eyeball as well. And once the Prophet found out about it- well, the whole country seemed personally invested. You would not believe the mail I've gotten- I've enclosed some of the more hilarious ones for your amusement.  
Anyway, all this scrutiny meant that Malfoy had to really put in some effort; he couldn't just take me to the Hog's Head and go dutch. I wish you could have seen his face when he realized- priceless.  
So this morning I got a- very sulky, also enclosed for your amusement- note from Malfoy instructing me to wear something 'as un-repulsive as your pathetic funds can manage' and meet him in the Entrance Hall at seven.  
Well, I couldn't let myself be outdone in the snobbery department, so I immediately got organizing. I approached Ginny Weasley and asked for her help. I should have talked to her sooner- she's much more open than I had expected, despite her connections to Ronald. When we barricaded ourselves in the dorm she pulled out a stack of Muggle fashion magazines I didn't know she had and we leafed through them until we found the perfect dress. It's funny how little Muggle fashion has made it into the Wizarding world- their style has so many more options. Is it the same in Bulgaria, or do you have pants, skirts, etc?  
We deliberately picked a Muggle dress because I knew it would tweak Malfoy's nose0 not only to have to spend time around me looking so Muggleish, but also because there were bound to be photographers which meant Draco Malfoy on a DATE with a MUGGLEBORN in a MUGGLE DRESS would be immortalized in the media.  
It took a few hours, but eventually we got the charms right, so my school robes became a long sleeved, fit-and-flare, Gryffindor red mid-thigh dress.  
It took another hour to get the shoes right, but we managed a perfectly daring gold heel with lots of little sparkly bits that caught the light with every step. In deference to the cold, I made sure they were closed-toe so I could wear stockings, although I made sure they were the kind with the seam up the back. Did you know that's deliberate to make your legs look longer? Ginny told me- not that she needs them. Give her a few years and she'll be on all of those 'Most Beautiful Bachelorettes' lists, if Harry doesn't snap her up first.  
We spent the rest of the day on hair and makeup. You know my feelings on makeup, but I felt it was worth it to get one over on Malfoy. I'll admit- ONLY TO YOU- that it was also a little bit to get back at Ronald. I suppose I ought to be rising above it or something, but I just don't think he feels guilty enough. He keeps going around looking put upon and victimized. So, privately, I hope seeing me in goddess mode stings.  
We (Ginny) decided that an extreme hairstyle would look like I was trying too hard, so she used an embarrassing amount of Sleakeazy's (Harry's family invented it, did you know? I'd always wondered where his fortune came from) and a charm that did what curling irons do in about a fifth of the time and achieved this sort of cascade of waves and curls.  
In the end, our hours of effort achieved a sexy, casual, yet elegant look. With some of Ginny's gold jewelry and a little bag just big enough for money and my wand, I was set.  
I have to tell you, I looked good. That sort of casually sexy, effortlessly beautiful look you only see in magazines. I'm not sure I looked this good at the Yule Ball- Ginny really has an eye for this sort of thing. I'd send you a picture, but I'm confident you'll see it in the paper.  
Oh gosh, I've spent pages writing to you about the dull secrets behind beauty. Burn this sheets so no other man can see how much work goes into this stuff, all right? I'll get to the interesting bits now.  
So, feeling like a million galleons, I left Gryffindor Tower to meet my date. Ginny- and most of Gryffindor, to tell the truth, followed me down to the Entrance Hall.  
Most of the school turned out to be lurking around, waiting to see what was going to happen. I wanted to be irritated with them, but honestly, I felt too full of self-confidence to be bothered. You always say I should have more faith in myself. Well, tonight I really felt it. Besides, this stupid bet of Ronald's and Malfoy's is the most interesting thing to happen this school year.  
Malfoy had arrived before me, probably so he could say something scathing if I arrived late. Unfortunately for him, I was precisely on time.  
It was almost like a movie- the hundreds of students (and teachers, I saw Professor McGonagall and the new head trying to be unobtrusive in an alcove) had all been chattering but as I came down the stairs, a sort of hush radiated away from me. I'd like to think it was thanks to my astonishing beauty, but honesty compels me to admit they were probably waiting to see if I'd hex Malfoy.  
Don't worry though- Malfoy's face was enough of a compliment. He turned around in the silence and looked completely gobsmacked. I smacked him in third year; this expression was even more shocked. I could see whatever cutting comment he had planned die on his lips- that's how good I looked. (I can't help sounding egotistical, since I doubt I'll look this good on my wedding day. So don't be too put off by my confidence, okay? I promise to have my head on straight for my next letter, after my Cinderella moment has passed. Oh- that's a Muggle fairy tale.)  
I stepped up to Malfoy and nodded. “Malfoy.”  
He, of course, was wearing fashionably tailored robes of black, which could have looked nice on a less loathsome wizard. If it had been you, for example, they would have been quite elegant. Not that I'm saying we should date! Oh bother. It's late, don't mind me.  
After a few moments of gaping like a fish out of water, he recovered himself and managed a half-hearted sneer of “Granger.” I watched him war with himself- really, the whole night was twice as funny, knowing he had to work to balance Pureblood society's prejudice vs. normal Wizarding society's idolization of me as Harry's friend- and eventually he stiffly offered his arm with jerky, reluctant movements. It was easy to see he wanted to snub me, but his heart, or something lower, wasn't in it. Particularly not with everyone watching.  
A thestral drawl carriage took us down to the gates (nearly every 7 th and 8th year can see them now. It's so sad.) where Malfoy mumbled something about Apparating to our destination, so I took his arm again.  
We ended up on the doorstep of a restaurant in Diagon Alley with which I wasn't familiar, but was clearly expensive. I think it was Malfoy's attempt to intimidate me- not that it worked. I've been dealing with the sniveling ferret for eight ears now, I know all his tricks. Really, he's no harder to manage than Harry or Ronald.  
His apparation landed us in the middle of a hoard of reporters who immediately started shouting questions at us. I couldn't hear what they were saying in the cacophony, but it didn't matter because the maitre'd appeared and ushered us in the door, closing it firmly in the reporters' faces.  
As a big time Quidditch star you've probably been to restaurants like Kyo Ya before. I, as a humble Muggleborn, hadn't realized that the plain black door with no signage whatsoever lead into the most expensive restaurant in Wizarding Britain. I have to admit, it was the tiniest bit intimidating. The floor was malachite, which I didn't even know was a thing. It made the room feel deeper than it was


End file.
